Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.

Site Wide Plots

Kaos :: The Beginning of the End☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.

Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.

☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.

Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.

Doppleganger Plot☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.

ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.

Cotm

Character of the Month for
June, 2017

WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!

Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.

REVENANTi'm waking up i feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems grow

The strides that glided the shadow swathed man were long, they were easy, they were purposeful even without his mind intending destination. His pallid eyes were half-drawn when his viewed the world with seeming incomprehension... but Revenant saw everything. He acknowledged the world: life, it's joys, it's miseries all for what they were. He navigated through them a usually quiet black sylph and was always attentive, always curious, even if the emotion never splayed across his disheveled face.

He always hid behind apathy.

It was much easier to forget and shield himself from the world's, what a cruel mistress she was, less then desirable teachings. He'd been dealt enough. Enough.

A woman that didn't love him - a capricious bitch that had sullied his soul and trampled his heart - viewed him with disdain and held him in little regard somewhere. A child he'd bore her was nothing but remains now, scattered, maimed, brutalized all for the chance of obtaining riches. Riches and power. It's all she ever cared about, his dear Atalanta, and at the first breath of acquiring her coveting she'd spurned everything they'd created together: their life, their precious daughter, their love. What a laugh! She hadn't loved him. Not really, had she? She hadn't adored their child either. That much was evident when he'd found her mutilated upon the slate of the mountains they'd inhabited - a macabre offering, a renouncing of Atalanta's all previous ties so that she could begin anew in the bed of some noble stranger. Damn her.

His breath purled up in a fine mist as the nomad exhaled a sigh. Frigid air gripped his lungs like cold fists and sent a shiver through his abysmal body. He waited, obsidian statuesque, for nothing as he'd come to expect nothing. Still and waiting.

A pale and crimson wraith moved through the snow she found such a comfort; it brought her to life. One crimson and one blue eye observed her surroundings with the aura of an old soul, and in a way, she was. Her memories were flawless encyclopedia if this land and her experiences. She knew every tree in every beautiful flaw, and the rocks that scattered about she knew by heart. This knowledge would not fade with time; it would not age; it would not die. Her mind would be forever until her body ceased to provide it life. Conversations rang in her mind as if they were being spoken at that very moment, and the sounds of the forest still resonated in clear contrast to the chirping of Birdsong.

Every loss would remain a clear picture forever. Being attacked on the Tides, stolen by Nyra and used as leverage, escaping the shades, healing her sister's legs, having her heart emptied by Osiris and refilled once more by her dragon, being drained of her soul by the unicorn, Deimos, and the list rattled on in her head. Life had not been easy, and the scars remained as social oddities.

A four legged raven stood in the distance. He appeared blind with orbs of milky, pale blue, and a face of white that stood starkly upon his brow. She cocked her head to the side and approached without fear. The mare's mind had been rearranged at birth to create more space for her memories, and basic instincts fell by the way side.

Cloven, tan hooves moved through the familiar, glorious snow, her pristine, alabaster figure a lithe contrast to his own, formless darkness. The horn upon her brow spiraled in classic white, but the traces of a violent soul buried beneath were physically evident in bloody, crimson fringes of her mane and tail. She tilted her head as she moved, defined features veiled by forelock. Her crimson eye observed him curiously. A white puff of frost moved past her lips in bated breath.

"Who are you?" she asked, her chime-like tones dancing on the breeze with a certain delicacy. Despite her height, she was a lithely build, elegant creature. The gods of the creation had paid special attention to the details of her structure, though she was hardly aware of her physical beauty. Attractiveness was in the eye of the beholder.

REVENANTi'm waking up i feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems grow

’Who am I?’

Her face was divinity and she was a pearl amongst rubble – pure in comparison to the inkblot stain he left on the snow. He’d watched her come, watched her with lifeless eyes but their claim to lack of focus was a cunning lie. He acknowledged her coming with the clarity of day but had chosen to remain quiet, to steal into himself as he pondered the question she’d asked him. He made it much more difficult than she surely intended it to be.

He was a mortal. He’d been heartbroken. He himself had become heartless. He felt a fool and a failure – incapable of possessing love, more importantly keeping it. He was unworthy and forsaken… but the bumbling mess and intricacies of his identity remained his own enigma. Instead he said to her; ”Revenant.” His voice was another difference betwixt them. His dark, brooding while hers was light and breathy. Dainty. His seeing but unseeing eyes remained forward and he studied her offhandedly from his peripherals. She had his attention… though she probably didn’t know it.

He wasn’t the chatty sort. Perhaps at one time he had been - happier times where he basked and lavished in the life that had been a lie. He would have lingered in ignorance forever if he could have. His life would have been a falsity… but he would have been content. It was selfish of him… but aforementioned he was a mortal… and his desires were simply, earthly, and for his own benefit.

The oil stain on the snow replied with a name that weighed heavily on the air, and her delicately shaped ears tilted forward to catch the drifts of his deep tones. Revenant, a creature returned to life from the frosty grasp of death; she wondered who would fit such a moniker to a child. Patiently, she waded through the pause with her own thoughts filling the gap, her two colored eyes danced between his, wondering what had caught his gaze. Ophelia found determining the direction of his sight rather difficult, but this was an exciting challenge, something new in a rather mundane array of normalcy.

The alabaster and crimson femme rested her weight on one hip, cloven hooves sinking into the snow. Her appearance was distinctly unicorn, but her blood ran fierce with her mother's equine heritage. The only visible sign of her half-blooded nature was her bonded, silver dragon, Tinek. Snow fell with the waning light of day and danced upon her lashes, and the dragon trotted along a treelimb overhead to observe the scene with interest, two, crimson eyes keenly watching.

His voice broke the patient silence with a question, and she followed suit with his reply. "Ophelia," she replied, her delicate voice much different than his own. She twisted her full, white and crimson tail around her fetlocks before arching her neck like a swan, lifting her muzzle to the sky. Her eyes sought her dragon who yawned a frosty breath and settled on the limb impatiently; she smiled. "Are you seeking a place to call home?" He was here now. Whatever home he had could not be wished into existence. She knew. She had tried.

REVENANTi'm waking up i feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems grow

So that’s where he’d found himself, on the doorstep of a grand new land with grand new opportunities… but within himself he carried burdens. Deep burdens, soul ravaging burdens that inhibited him from starting fresh. No. He was no doe-eyed wanderer with optimistic hopes and visions of grandeur. He was broken and his history has embedded roadmap of scars in him – deep fissures that had twisted themselves into his very essence. He would never be easily fixed or simple.

But he was a brilliant actor and any indication of his turmoil was masterfully concealed by the monogamy of his face.

Though no matter how apathetic he seemed to be Revenant was a curious man. His ears twitched subtly in Ophelia’s direction as she mentioned a home – her voice the chorus of angels that men would clamor for with greed ladling their hands, with craze in their eyes. She was young and fruitful, and there were such sinners in this world that would take her whether she consented it or not. He was not so dastardly… but the thought had waltzed into the dark confines of his mind, clearly.

”Who would have me, my dear? You?” It was a blatant question. He played no games of coyness – lacked the capacity to tease or concoct a string of words with little meaning. Revenant found he coveted such ability: to talk a lot without revealing anything at all. It was an art albeit a cunning and deceitful one. ”There cannot be a home if you do not have heart.”’And mine is in pieces.’ the statuesque stallion thought glumly.

The way he asked his question in such a pointed and blatant way made her frown, sadness filling her heart. She sympathized with the being, as she had often felt the same emotion. Who would want a half-blooded wraith like herself? A creature with little instinct and a mind full of memories? Who would want to have to live with the thought that your friend or other could never forget, would never forget anything that they said and would always be right? The thought was depressing because Ophelia knew that she would not be able to live with herself; she had struggled for a year with the conundrum of her own life, isolated in the snowy mountains.

Now, she was reconciled to both herself and her state of permanent loneliness. She did not have her sister's fire, heart or spirit, nor her exotic beauty. Of the two daughters of Paladin the Valiant, Ktulu had most certainly emerged superior, but Phi was not jealous. She was proud of her sibling and resigned to a life burdened with the number of one. Though her heartache over Osiris was foolish and her interpretation of matters wildly fantasized, she understood the feeling of a heart crumbling to pieces. She could still recall that agonizing moment when she had seen Osiris on the beach; she could still feel the way her heart sank into her toes and cracked up the center.

She shook her head as if to dislodge the thoughts, and she smiled kindly, her eyes warm and welcoming. Ophelia was kind at her core, and perhaps far too much. The day when one would take advantage of her altruism was fast approaching, and she was blind to its coming. "My sister and I lead a small band called the Grey. We are an elite group of mercenaries, spies and healers who have bonded under the mantle of reality and balance. You are most welcome to join, but if you would prefer herd life, I can take you to any of the three." Phi was not selfish. Even with her tenuous relationship with Kri, she held no ill will against the herd or its inhabitants. "To the south is a predominately pegasus, though mixed herd ruled by a warrior, Kri. Northwest lies the Edge, run by Mirage. The group is open to all species as well and follows the Goddess of the Moon. Northeast is where the Foothills begin, and three leaders of each species rules currently."

Should she mention Mauja? She had not seen the stallion in ages. "If you are looking to live with your own kind, a group of outcast unicorns has formed in the northern tundras. I would be pleased to escort you anywhere." She offered this with a gentle smile, her expression soft and open.

REVENANTi'm waking up i feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems grow

She spoke of herds and outcast bands but he was more interested in their causes for Revenant was no idle minded fool… and even if the rare desire of companionship were nestled deep within him, he wouldn’t be privy to something he didn’t believe in. Too often souls craving acceptance would delve into a life they didn’t understand and then they were immersed. ’Atalanta did that.’ When she’d decided to be his mate, to bear his child, she hadn’t realized the ramifications of such a decision. She hadn’t been faithful to it, it would seem she couldn’t be faithful to it but unlike Atalanta he simply couldn’t remove himself from his attachments without so much as batting an eye. Well, that was before…

He couldn’t deny he was lonely… but often he beat the feeling deep, deep down. Instead of focusing on the lack of companionship he felt, he found a piece of information within her statements that could be useful to him… and educational. Gods and Goddesses piqued his interests and he wondered which deity she paid homage to, worshipped? ”Does your band devote itself to divinity? What use would you have for warriors, for spies, and for healers? You are so young… and you possess and seek the foundation of an army.” Revenant mused, not disapproving or particularly fond of the idea. His voice was dry and cryptic.

”My own kind… you mean to hint that there are fissures betwixt these creatures here? They do not love one another, accept once another?” their feuds were of little value to Revenant. He didn’t dispose the notion of conversing with different species other than his own. The worth of one’s character was determined by their actions… not their appearances. Yet there were bigots in this world that didn’t fancy the same ideals. Their ignorance disappointed him. Ophelia didn’t speak of mixed herds with ire… and so he could only assume she shared his views of intermingling. Yet he couldn’t deny everyone had his or her own place, should have. ”What would you have me do if I were to become apart of the Grey?” He asked her finally, his pale eyes settling on hers as he bestowed her a rarity – his obvious attention.

Ophelia's attention was focused and unwavering upon the stallion before her as was her way. She was a devoted creature to whomever was speaking or interacting, and she would not insult the stallion by allowing her interest to be drawn elsewhere by idle, trivial things. The questions he asked were honest and good, though his final statement brought a sad smile to her lips and an expression in her eyes that was far too ancient for her young, lithe figure. Still, in her few years upon this globe, Ophelia had face trials that few would experience in their lifetime. "Nay, our band does not follow one god. My sister has borne the son of the God of the Earth, and I follow the path of the light through the God of the Sun," she replied openly. A clever smile crossed her lips. "Though do not mistake the term 'light' for the metaphysical alignment to unwavering and stringent divinity and goodness."

"Like mercenaries, we would take payment such as trinkets, protection in a herd during winter, or other things to aide those who are underrepresented and have no options," she explained. "I have seen powers rise that suppress the few and enemies made that are powerful. We would provide a balance," Ophelia explained. She was clear, calm and concise in her explanations, and her chime-like voice carried the reality of the violence of the Grey in an almost pleasant manner.

Ophelia's eyes narrowed in veiled irritation in response to his next words, though the expression was clearly not directed at the stallion himself. "Fools gather and breed hate for species who do not bear their resemblance." The response was flat, short and curt. "The notion is childish but infectious." And she spoke truth. Already the unicorns were reforming under their banner of anger, and in secret a stallion of the north was gathering the equines in a revolt. The future remained to be seen, but in a way, her statement of fact was prophetic. "I am neither unicorn nor equine, but a combination of the two. My equine blood allowed me to bond with my dragon, and my unicorn blood has given me the weapon upon my brow." She spoke this also as fact, as she was a modest creature. Ophelia had no reason to brag or force her character into an amplified light.

His strange, blind gaze settled on hers, and she returned the attention confidently. The nature of his faded orbs made him difficult to read. They did not hold the natural sparkle or shifting of a pupil to tell her of his mood. Instead, she was forced to guess and play a tenuous game of hesitation that she found she rather enjoyed. This experience was different, a minor excitement in her mind of countless information. "You would choose what you like. You could follow my teachings and learn the cryptic ways of gathering knowledge. Or you could also follow my friend, Tor. She is a healer of great power and greater, noble heart." The memory of the strong, morally glorious equine brought a smile to her lips.

"My sister leads the warriors and those fit with athletic, fighting abilities. Should you desire the more violent and direct approach to solving a problem, I would join her half of the team." Ophelia's lips braced into a smile, feeling confident about their Grey and their purpose. "Should you choose to stride a different path, the Grey will always be open to you, Revenant," Ophelia said, her chime-like voice dancing on the snowy breeze.

REVENANTi'm waking up i feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems grow

She mustn’t belong anywhere – this creature with tainted blood, with angelic features that were so lovable… and yet it was clear she’d been scorned. His eyes, they seen her now as he considered her. They rested on her levelly as he considered her offer, as he fathomed her explanations of her group of misfits. They had to be if they accepted her, Ophelia the mutt. He cared little about this world’s wars, their idiocy and proclamations of supremacy: horned, plain, winged… they all lived and breathed. They all bled red when slaughtered. He was a misfit – a shadow that skulked with the hope that he was never noticed, a riffraff that couldn’t even keep love when he’d had it. Yes. He belonged with Ophelia… and this Ktulu.

He could be loved by the unlovable. - and they’ll break you all over again!’ And he, Revenant, could only be described as a glutton for punishment if that were true – a masochist.

”I’ve always had an affinity for learning.” Monotonously he conceded to her, was snared by the jewel that enraptured him with prettiness he dare not acknowledge (he should covet nothing)… and declarations of an honorable cause, a purpose. Perhaps that was what had been absent in him all of this time? Leaving the dark gentleman like a carved pumpkin – hollow and only illuminated by a flame fed to him by another.

It would ease his heartache and bully the memories of Atalanta away.

His head was lowered to her and he closed his pale eyes, breathing a heavy sigh. His bone-like horn was pointed at her heart, one he believed to be full of sincerity but still mortal… still capable of becoming such a dark rotten prune like his ex lover’s. He would be a fool not to be wary of her too, pretty or not, tainted or not. She could devastate him. ”Shall we go, my dear?” He asked her without pantomime expression – a drone he was, a drone he’d always be.